by Pandora Pine
Pres smiled brightly at Drake. He didn’t like being this far away from his shiny new boyfriend, but this night was about cheering Griff and Gregor up. The least he could do was pay attention to his friend. "We told Griff he needed a Facebook page now he's gotten a message from the mysterious Napoleon Something-or-other."
"LeClerc!" Griff fairly shouted.
"Who now?" Noble asked setting down a tray filled with a large pepperoni and mushroom pizza.
"Jesus fucking Christ! Why am I even friends with you assholes?" Griff threw his hands up in frustration.
"Who's an asshole?" Gregor asked.
"Are all of my friends here? I don't want to repeat this story again." Griff looked like he was at the end of his patience.
Pres looked around to see that their whole group was gathered around Griff. It has been a rough day for his friend with Les Bowman showing up at the hotel out of the blue to work on the Sand Dollar Shoal website in person, rather than over the phone, so Pres was willing to cut him a bit of slack. "We're all here."
Griff took a deep breath, looking like he was digging deep for his self-control. "Drake made me create a Facebook page and I got a message today from some guy I don't know named Napoleon LeClerc. I was tempted to delete the message based on his name alone. Who the fuck names a kid Napoleon?"
"Mrs. Bonaparte, for one." Noble elbowed Landon and started to laugh.
Pres shot him a look that told him to shut the fuck up. With the mood Griff was in, it wasn't going to take much before he'd lose his temper completely.
"What did the message say?" Drake asked.
Presley gave his lover a grateful smile. Getting the conversation back on track was exactly what Griff needed.
"He said he wants to do a story on Captain Benson and his lover." Griff looked around carefully at each of the guys.
"Lover?" Pres was confused. "Captain Benson built Sand Dollar Shoal for his wife, Temperance."
"Sounds like the old Cap was a bit of a scurvy dog!" Noble crowed.
"Don't say another word unless the bowling alley catches on fire, or Justin Timberlake walks in. Got it?" The look on Griff's face brooked no argument
Noble made a motion like he was zipping his lips shut.
"I hate to say it, Griff, but the pirate lingo aside, it sounds like Noble might be right about the captain." Gregor grinned.
"That's what this Napoleon wants to talk about. Said he had some interesting information about the Captain and his lover and that he’d like to talk to me about doing a story on the hotel."
"I can't shake the feeling that I've heard his name before." Pres closed his eyes, trying to jog his memory.
Noble started bouncing up and down in his seat, raising his hand like they were in school and moaning with his lips still sealed.
"Fire or Justin Timberlake?" Griff deadpanned.
Noble shook his head no and kept making noise with his closed mouth.
"Jesus Christ, let him talk before he explodes." Gregor's lips quirked into a smile.
"Fine. Noble talk." Griff turned his full attention on Noble.
"I know who Napoleon is." Noble flashed a shit-eating grin.
"If you say anything about the Battle of Waterloo or Napoleon Dynamite, I swear to Christ you're walking home." Griff raised an elegant eyebrow.
"He's a writer for Yankee Magazine." Noble crossed his arms over his chest, a self-satisfied smile blooming over his face.
"Did you look it up on your phone?" Griff didn’t sound impressed.
Noble shook his head. "No, my mom used to read the magazine with me when I was a kid and after she passed, my dad renewed the subscription every year as a way to keep her memory alive for me." Noble blinked up at the ceiling and cleared his throat loudly. "Anyway, there was an article in the December issue that Napoleon wrote about the supposed hauntings at the Wentworth Hotel up in New Hampshire."
"You're serious." Griff looked dumb-founded.
Noble nodded. "While we were talking, I did look him up and he writes pieces about historical buildings and places all over New England. Not only does he write about the places, but he also stays at them too. According to the article about the Wentworth, he stayed there for a month."
"A month?" Pres couldn't believe his ears. "I can't imagine Yankee is footing the bill for that.”
"They're not. Nappy pays for the lodgings himself. If memory serves he’s got some money and he’s not afraid to use it to make his stories better.” Noble shrugged.
"Oh, Christ, don't give him a nickname. If you name him, he's ours." Griff grabbed a slice of pizza and folded it in half before taking a bite.
"What if he's your Prince Charming?" Pres couldn't help asking.
Griff's eyes bugged out while he chewed.
"With a name like Napoleon, he's probably 5'2" and has a hunchback," Gregor mumbled.
"Oh, no he doesn't!" Landon sounded practically giddy. He turned the phone to Noble who whistled.
"Definitely not Quasimodo, but since you're obviously not interested." Noble handed the phone back to Landon.
"Wait! Let us see." Pres couldn't help himself. Griff had been bitching and moaning earlier in the day about wanting to find the man of his dreams. What if the historian was him?
Noble handed the phone to Drake who leaned over to share with Pres.
"Oh my, God!" Pres couldn't believe it. Napoleon What's-his-face was gorgeous. “He looks a little like JT. Don’t you think, Drake?”
"Cut the shit, lovebirds." Griff didn't look impressed. "I'm thirty fucking years old. I'm old enough to know Prince Charming isn't going to just fall into my lap."
"Uh, hello?" Noble grinned as he pointed back and forth between himself and Landon.
Not able to help himself, Pres did the same thing with him and Drake.
"Fine. I'll give you that, but there's no way in hell lightning is going to strike three times." As if on cue, there was a huge rumble of thunder and a bolt of lightning that lit up the entire bowling alley. The angry look on Griff's face faded instantly. "Give me the phone."
Pres tilted his head at Drake and handed the phone over. He watched Griff as the annoyed look on his face faded into one of shock.
"Damn, he's pretty hot." Griff looked impressed.
Gregor looked over his shoulder. "He's a damn sight better looking than Les Bowman." Gregor made fake gagging noises.
Griff snorted. "Yeah, time was not kind to the former prom king."
"That's what happens when you're an asshole. Karma's a bitch." Noble grinned.
"Back to Napoleon," Presley waggled his eyebrows at Griff. "What are you gonna do about his request to do a story about Captain Benson and Sand Dollar Shoal?"
Griff shrugged, biting his bottom lip to keep the smile threatening to break free at bay. "I think he'd like the Hiraeth room."
XX
Drake was snuggled up with Presley on the back deck of the hotel. When they'd gotten back from the bowling alley, he'd suggested they watch the lighting show over the ocean from the hotel instead of heading right in to bed. The roof over the deck was keeping them dry, but they were sharing a blanket anyway.
"I didn't know you could bowl," Presley murmured against the side of his neck.
"I didn't know I could bowl either." Drake kissed the top of Presley's head. "Blow, yes. Bowl, no."
Pres started laughing and moved away from Drake to smile up at him.
The thunder rolled over the rising ocean. A moment later, a forked bolt of lightning lit up the sky.
“What would you do if today was your last day?” Presley wrapped his arms tighter around Drake.
“That’s a pretty morbid question.” Drake had spent plenty of time thinking about his own mortality while he was waiting for the results of his twelve HIV tests. He’d also made a game plan for what he’d do if the tests came back positive: sell the house and fly to Hawaii. Dying on the beach wouldn’t be a bad way to go out. Little did he know, only six months later, he’d be living a life on Cape
Cod he could never have conjured up in his wildest dream.
Pres shrugged. “Storms like this remind me how small I am in the grand scheme of things.”
“You’re anything but small to me, babe.” Drake kissed him hard, trying to show Pres with his lips how much his lover meant to him. “You’re the first person who’s ever believed in me. You’re my best friend. Sometimes I feel like you’re the oxygen in my lungs and the sun shining down on me.”
“I think that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me, but you’re stalling, Drake. What would you do if today was your last day on earth?”
“Okay, fine. I am stalling, but I meant every word I said.” Drake looked out over the ocean at the angry waves crashing on the shore. “If today was it for me, I’d do exactly what I did today. I’d spend time with my friends and I’d hold you until my last breath.”
Pres sniffled against Drake’s neck. “That’s beautiful.”
Drake had never believed people before when they’d said that love changes you, but he was living proof. Six months ago his answer to Presley’s question would have been to drink as much booze and have as much sex as possible until the end came. “What about you?”
Pres snickered. “I was afraid you’d ask.”
“Why?” Would Pres have not wanted to spend his last day together?
“I wasn’t sure how’d you’d take my answer.” Pres nervously chewed on his bottom lip.
“I love you, babe. Any answer you give with be great.” Drake mentally crossed his fingers hoping he could keep his word to Pres.
“I would want to spend the day painting you,” Presley answered shyly.
Drake snorted. “Painting me? Why?” That wasn’t the answer Drake was expecting.
“I used to paint when I was a kid. I was pretty good at it. My parents thought being artistic was a waste of time. There were better things I could have been doing with my time, you know?” Pres shrugged.
Drake had a feeling he knew what those things were. Presley’s parents had been all over him about learning the family business. It broke his heart that Pres hadn’t been free to pursue his own interests growing up. “Would you paint me like Venus coming out of the ocean with only my hair to cover my naughty bits?”
“Fuck no!” Presley laughed. “If it was my last day on earth I’d paint you like I see you.”
Drake was almost afraid to ask. “How do you see me?”
“Well, aside from your physical strength and obvious assets,” Pres waggled his eyebrows. “You’re my hero.”
Drake couldn’t catch his breath. He wasn’t hero material. Not at all. “Your hero?”
Pres nodded, nuzzling against the hot skin of Drake’s neck. “You love me for who I am inside and out. You’re my best friend…”
Drake could feel the emotions welling up inside his heart. He didn’t think he could keep listening to Presley’s litany of his best qualities. He knew they would get to a point where the words simply weren’t true. Drake bent forward and kissed Pres, pulling him to sit on his lap as he ravished his lover’s mouth.
Presley squeaked, but helped Drake move him. Once he was settled, he carded his hands through Drake’s dark hair
“Just because it isn’t our last day doesn’t mean we can’t act like it is, right?” Drake brushed his lips over Presley’s.
“I need you, Drake.” Presley wrapped his arms around Drake’s neck and kissed him back.
“Need you too, babe.” He needed Presley like he needed his next breath. The problem was, all the lube was back at the cottage.
With one last kiss, Presley slid off Drake’s lap and went for the button and zipper of his black jeans. “Lift up.” Seconds later, Presley had Drake’s pants off and his dick shoved halfway down his throat.
Drake leaned back against the rattan love seat, his eyes torn between Presley sucking his cock and the lightning bursting out over the angry ocean.
“Think you’re wet enough?” Without waiting for an answer, Pres stood back up and shucked out of his pants. Turning around, Pres braced his hands on Drake’s thighs, lowering himself down until the tip of Drake’s cock nudged against him. “Take me.” Pres whispered over his shoulder.
Drake couldn’t believe his eyes. “We don’t have any protection.” Drake knew he was clean but there was no way he could tell Pres that without telling him how he was so sure.
“I trust you with all my heart.”
Resting one hand on Presley’s shoulder, he guided his cock to Pres’ entrance and pushed forward slowly.
Pres cried out, pushing back against Drake as his lover pushed forward.
"That's right, babe. Ride my cock." Drake nibbled against the back of Presley's neck just as a bright bolt of lightning lit up the night sky. "See that? If I were to describe to someone what it feels like to make love to you, that would be it."
"Hot and bright?" Pres panted, bottoming out.
Drake shook his head, his lips grazing back and forth against Pres' hot skin. "You light up my entire world. In the middle of the storm, you're my calm."
"That's amazing." Pres looked over his shoulder at Drake who instantly captured his lips. "Can we continue with the poetry later maybe?"
Snorting against Pres' freckled shoulder, Drake wrapped his arms around Presley's torso and scooted to the edge of the bench. "Ride me, babe."
Presley obeyed, sighing when Drake started moving along with him.
It wasn't going to take long for Drake to find his end with the way their bodies were moving in perfect sync with each other. As Pres met each thrust of his hips, he couldn't help staring out at the raging sea at its raw power.
"Fuck, Drake."
Drake skated a hand down Presley's stomach to wrap around his hot, weeping cock. "Come on, gorgeous." Drake smiled, kissing the back of Pres' ear before tugging on the lobe with his teeth.
"I'm coming!" Pres shouted, his words carrying on the wind.
"Pres!" Drake roared, his cock pulsing deep within his lover. He held on tight, riding out the storm with Pres. Over his shoulder, Drake could see Pres' cock spewing all over his hand. He was mesmerized watching what he did to Pres.
When his cock stopped jerking, Pres leaned back against Drake. "I'll love you through every storm we face."
Too emotional to respond, Drake nodded against the back of his neck and tried not worry about the giant secret he was keeping.
16
The next two weeks flew by at light speed. Pres and Drake had been so busy getting ready for the hotel's grand re-opening that they barely saw each other aside from meals and when they'd fall exhausted into bed. They'd managed to be intimate a time or two, but it wasn't nearly enough for Presley.
He'd been amazed at how Drake had brought all of the guest rooms to life. His lover had also added special touches to each room, making them unique, but homey and in perfect tune with the name assigned. The pictures he'd taken for the website looked like they were shot by a professional. Griff kept marveling that buying Drake a camera was the best two hundred dollars he'd ever spent.
"Hey gorgeous!" Drake was all smiles as he ran down the main staircase and into the dining room.
"Hey yourself." Pres stood on tiptoes to kiss Drake. "Are you clean enough for your tux fitting? Or do you need to run home and shower?" Pres couldn't help wishing Drake needed a shower. There was nothing he'd rather do more than scrub Drake clean with his tongue.
"No, I'm good." Drake grinned and grabbed Pres' hips, yanking him closer. "But, if you want to get clean so we can get dirty later, I'm in." Drake waggled his eyebrows and bent low for a kiss.
"Jesus Christ! We're paying you to run the hotel, not to fondle the help." Griff wore a smile despite his sarcastic tone.
"You made that sound so dirty, Griff!" Presley grinned up at Drake. "Thank you!"
Pulling out his usual seat at their table, Griff rolled his eyes. "It should be me thanking the two of you. I still can’t believe all of the guest rooms are completely decorated and
every staff position from chambermaid to janitor is filled. The amount of work you’ve done in the last two weeks blows my mind. "
Pres kissed Drake one last time before sitting down at the table. “Speaking of blowing your mind, what's the latest on you and Napoleon?"
"There isn't a me and Napoleon." Despite his words, Griff was blushing.
"Oh please! I've seen the way you smile at your phone when the text chime rings." Presley batted his eyes at Drake.
"How do I smile?" Griff sounded curious.
"Like a man's who's falling in love," Drake shot back. "And I should know." He hooked his thumb at Presley.
Griff waved a dismissive hand in the air. "I've spoken to this guy a few times on text message. We're hardly close."
“I'm gonna have to throw the bullshit flag on that one!” Noble said from the entrance to the dining room. Landon was a few steps behind him.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Griff blushed harder.
"You're on your phone constantly and all of the people you usually text are here. That leads me to believe you're texting with Nappy."